


Distraction

by songofhell



Series: On the Mend [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: While Sam was dealing with all the drama of Castiel, Lucifer, and Amara, he didn't even want to fathom what was going on between Dean and Crowley. So, here's their story.





	

Sam, Dean, and Castiel had been arguing with Crowley for well over an hour, and it was going nowhere. Crowley wouldn’t let them have his weapon – a Hand of God – unless he was the one to use it, but there was no way that they could let a demon wield that much power. Castiel was the clear choice to wield the weapon, but Crowley wouldn’t stand for that.

“Alright, _enough,”_ Dean suddenly declared. “I’m tired, and I don’t think we’re going to be resolving anything anytime soon.”

“Dean has a point,” Castiel agreed. “You and Sam both need your sleep.”

“Dean, if you want to go to bed, I can stay up,” Sam offered. “I’m not that tired.”

“Bullshit.” Dean got to his feet, looking sternly at his little brother. “I know you didn’t go to bed last night – that’s not happening two nights in a row. You need to get some sleep.”

Sam shook his head, looking away.

“You can, of course, have your room to yourself, Sam,” Castiel said. “I can sit up somewhere else.”

“No,” Sam immediately protested. “I don’t want to be in there. You take it. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”

“Good, you’re sleeping, then.” Dean turned his attention to the demon. “Crowley, you’re coming with me. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes as he stood. “You know you don’t need to give an excuse to get me into bed.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Crowley followed him down the hall to his room. “You know that the only option is to let me wield the rod.”

“We’re not discussing this.” He shut the door behind them and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself down onto the bed, his head buried in the pillow.

“You’re not exactly leaving much room for me,” Crowley pointed out.

“You don’t need sleep, and therefore, you don’t need a bed. So, sit down, shut up, and let me sleep.”

There were a few seconds of silence, in which Dean never heard Crowley move to sit down, but he didn’t feel like dealing with it. Eventually, Crowley spoke. “There’s something I’d like to say to you.”

“If this is about the rod, you can shove it up your ass.”

“It’s not. You… you saved me today, and… I wanted to thank you.”

Dean rolled onto his side, blinking up at him in surprise. “Uh… you’re welcome. I just figured you’d be useful.” He wasn’t about to tell Crowley the real reason he had saved him – even he didn’t want to think about that.

“You still risked your life.”

“I risk my life all the time. Nothing special. And Castiel helped, too.”

“But it was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, I knew you’d be useful, and it was a all-hands-on-deck kind of situation.”

“I’m still grateful.” Crowley looked more sheepish than Dean had ever seen him, and he couldn’t help but think that it was kind of cute. “And I’m not so good at this sappy stuff, so can we just leave it there?”

Dean grinned. “Works for me,” he chuckled. He began to roll onto his back, but he hesitated. Crowley looked so different than he normally did. Maybe it was just the t-shirt and sweats, when he normally looked immaculate in a fancy suit, but he looked almost broken. And dammit, Dean just couldn’t get over that soft spot for him. “Can’t have been very comfy in that cage.”

Crowley’s gaze was fixed on the floor. “You have no idea.”

Dean nodded as he scooted over to the edge of the bed, patting the now free space beside him. “Come on.”

Crowley looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

A corner of Crowley’s lips pulled up as he crawled into bed, and dammit, this bed was too small for this. He could feel Crowley brushing against his side, and his mind was shouting at him that he was _in bed with Crowley,_ not that it was needed because his body was already reacting to it.

Crowley rolled onto his side to face him, and Dean was relieved that that put at least a little distance between them. “Sure you don’t want me to thank you properly?” Crowley teased.

Fuck, yes. “Definitely not.” There was a slight catch in his voice that he hoped Crowley didn’t notice.

“Hmm. You’re certain? I really am quite good at showing my gratitude.”

Dean made the mistake of looking over at him. He was smiling in amusement, clearly not expecting Dean to agree, but having fun messing with him, all the same. And that was the problem. All Crowley would ever want to do was mess with him. And Dean was the idiot who had gone and fallen for a demon.

But… did that mean he shouldn’t take what he could get? Was there anything wrong with a little no-strings-attached fun? It was normally his go-to, after all – it just had never been what he wanted with Crowley. But everything was going to Hell – Amara and Lucifer were both on the loose, his brother and best friend were heartbroken, and he was desperately hoping that he had given Sam the right advice – he could use a distraction.

“Alright,” he muttered, rolling onto his side to face Crowley. “Thank me, then.”

Shock didn’t quite cover the expression on Crowley’s face. “You’re joking… aren’t you?”

Dean shrugged. “Sure, if you want me to be…. But I could use a distraction.” He licked his lips nervously.

Crowley blinked, and then a smile spread over his face. “Well then, consider me your distraction.”

Crowley’s lips on his – desperate, demanding – was everything he had hoped for. It almost felt like… but he couldn’t let himself get caught up in that – this was _nothing_ to Crowley, and he had to remember that. To him, though, it was the best sex he had ever had. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his feelings for Crowley, or if he was just that good… he had a feeling it was both.

“If you ever need another distraction, just say the word,” Crowley murmured as he pulled Dean to his side.

“I will,” Dean sighed, resting his head on Crowley’s chest. Yeah, he’d probably end up regretting this at some point, but for now at least, he was going to enjoy it.

The next night, things went a little differently.

Crowley was pissed as he followed Dean into his room, slamming the door behind them. “You are seriously going to let Lucifer run amok out there, in the foolish hope that he will do your dirty work for you?” he demanded furiously.

“For the time being, yes. He’s focusing on Amara, and he might be the only one strong enough to take her out. We might as well take advantage of that.”

“And just how long are we going to sit on our asses, Dean? Long enough for him to tear apart everything I’ve built? For him to-”

“Dammit, Crowley, this is about more than you! Amara is going to destroy _everything._ If we don’t take her out, there will be no more Hell, don’t you get that?”

“Of course I do. But if we don’t take _Lucifer_ out, it will be destroyed beyond recognition by the time I get back to it!”

“And which one of those is worse?”

“Well, with Amara’s total destruction, at least I won’t have to deal with cleaning up the mess.”

Dean shook his head in exasperation. “Bigger picture, Crowley! We’re trying to save the world, here.”

“And we can still do that taking Lucifer out first!”

“But Lucifer might take _her_ out!” He sank down onto the bed, exhausted, his eyes trailing down to the floor. “You know what, it’s been decided, Crowley. You just have to deal with it.”

Crowley stood in front of him, glaring down at him. “You can’t honestly think it’s the best decision. Don’t tell me that there isn’t a part of you doubting it.”

“Of course there is. There always is, no matter what the decision is. Doesn’t change anything.” He sighed, looking up at him. “I could use a distraction.” He didn’t think it through before he said it, but everything was just too much right now, and he didn’t feel like having this argument, and it was the only thing he could think to say to put a stop to it. So, awful choice of words? Yes. Did he care? No.

Crowley raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I’m not sure that’s wise. See, I’m pissed at you, squirrel, and I don’t think you want me distracting you right now.”

Dean was already reaching up, tugging at Crowley’s shirt to pull him closer, proving just how good he was at making bad decisions. “Yeah. I do.”

His eyes narrowed, but he obligingly stepped forward so that he was standing between Dean’s legs. “Then I highly suggest you choose a safe word. I don’t handle emotions well.”

“Poughkeepsie.”

Crowley nodded, and then with a wave of his hand, Dean was thrown to the top of the bed, landing face-down. Next second, Crowley was on top of him. He had to bite the pillow to stay quiet that night, his hands clinging to the bedsheets for dear life, but he was never even tempted to utter the safe word.

“Thanks for the stress-relief,” Crowley muttered as he rolled off him.

Dean chuckled breathlessly as he pushed himself up to his side. He was still shaking slightly, not quite recovered. “Anytime you need it, just say the word.”

Crowley grinned as he pulled him to his side. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah. I’m great.”

It was a few minutes later, and Dean was already half-asleep, when Crowley spoke again. “Why can’t you be on my side?” he muttered sadly. Dean wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

They didn’t have sex every night, but it was pretty damn close. There was a lot of cause for distractions and stress-relief amongst them. Even the nights they didn’t have sex, Crowley still held Dean while he slept. He didn’t understand it, why the demon would do it when there was nothing in it for him, but it was so nice that he never asked, for fear of it stopping.

When they finally went out to face Amara, it was nice to have Crowley at his side. It was helpful, when he felt so drawn to Amara for whatever reason, to feel the presence of the one he actually loved at his side. Not that it did much good in the end. The Hand of God did nothing against her, and Crowley barely got them all away in time.

When they got back to the bunker, they had yet another fight about whether they should now shift their attention to Lucifer.

“Sam, how can you stand it?” Crowley demanded. “He had more time with you, so I know you had to have it worse than I did, but even what I got… I _can’t stand_ being on the same planet as him, knowing that he’s out there, and I don’t know how you can.”

Sam’s expression softened slightly. “I can’t…. I hate every second of it, Crowley. But it’s not about me. So long as Amara’s out there, the whole world is at stake, and… I have to focus on that, even if it means ignoring the way my skin crawls knowing that Lucifer is free.”

Crowley sighed. “Well, aren’t you just a saint? I’m not. I’m a demon. And I can’t distract myself by thinking about the wellbeing of the world. I just have to sit here and _suffer_ while you three dismiss everything I say.” He spun around, storming off further into the bunker.

“Wow… who would’ve though Crowley was actually hurting? I thought it was just his ego driving him after Lucifer,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah, me too…. I’ll go talk to him.” Dean didn’t wait for a response before he went after him, catching him in the hall leading from the library. “Crowley.” He didn’t turn around. “Crowley, stop.” Dean caught hold of his arm, turning him to face him. “Talk to me.”

“Why should I?” Crowley met his gaze with a glare. “It’s not like you actually care.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not…” He sighed. “You are so good at keeping up appearances – at acting like you’re always in control, that nothing gets under your skin. But you don’t have to do that with me.” Crowley began to look away, but Dean cupped the side of his jaw, holding his gaze. “Please talk to me,” he begged.

Crowley sighed. “What do you want me to say? Lucifer had me as his pet. He knew that physical torture doesn’t do anything to me anymore – admittedly, his brand of physical torture would likely be the exception to that, but he had easier ways of hurting me. He unmade me. He took away everything I had, paraded me as a dog in front of demons, made it perfectly clear that I was _nothing!”_ He took a deep breath, collecting himself. “I don’t just need to get the throne back because it’s mine, because I worked so hard for it. I need to prove that I am _not_ what Lucifer made me; that I am a _king!”_

Dean remembered the hint of brokenness that he had seen in Crowley that first night, and realized now that it had not been his imagination. Lucifer had really done a number on him, and he was still fighting the effects. He nodded, rubbing his thumb gently along Crowley’s jaw. “You will. I wish we could go after him right now, really, but with Amara out there… things aren’t that simple. You’re gonna have to wait.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. But Amara is the bigger threat, and we don’t have any other option. By the time we take Lucifer out, then turn to her, it’ll be too late.” Crowley shook his head, trying to turn away again, but Dean wouldn’t let him. “Hey, we’re still going after him. I refuse to let Lucifer get away with what he did to Sam, Cas… to you.”

Crowley scoffed. “To me? Don’t pretend, Dean. All I am to you is a bloody distraction.”

“But you’re not,” Dean protested firmly as he dropped his hand from Crowley’s face. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Crowley needed to hear this. He sighed. “I didn’t just save you because I thought you’d be useful.”

Crowley’s eyebrows drew together slightly. “That’s what you told me.”

“Well, I lied.” His eyes darted to the ground. “It was because I liked you.”

There was a pause as Crowley processed his words, and Dean was too nervous to look up to see his expression. “Past tense?”

“Well…” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s kind of more than that now.”

And then Crowley was kissing him, and of course they had kissed before, but it was always in bed and it was normally hard to identify anything other the lust. But currently, Crowley’s hands weren’t determined to touch ever bit of Dean that he could; one was locked on his hip, the other in his hair, and he was kissing him fervently, as though the most important thing to him at the moment was his lips on Dean’s. He pulled away gradually after a couple minutes, stopping with his face only a couple inches from Dean’s.

“Well, there’s at least one thing Lucifer got wrong,” he muttered.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“He said you would never return my feelings.”

“Your…?” Dean’s mind was reeling.

“Come on, squirrel, I haven’t exactly been subtle about it. Lucifer was able to figure out just from Castiel’s memories, and he didn’t even know the half of it.”

“But you… you can’t… can you?”

“What, be in love with you? Apparently, I can.”

Dean blinked. “Oh,” he muttered lamely.

Crowley smiled. “Oh, indeed.” He took hold of his hand. “Shall we move this conversation to a more suitable location?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah… that sounds like a good idea.” He smiled as Crowley led him in the direction of his room. Everything was still going to Hell, and he had no idea what their next move would be, but at least he had one good thing in his life to distract him from all the bad.


End file.
